What Lights Your Fire?

I have many, many irrational fears and one of them is running out of gas. It’s never happened to me because once the light goes on I hone in on the first gas station that crosses my path. 

The other day the gas light went on and my inner panic lit up with it. I stopped at the first gas station available. One I’m not sure I ever noticed before. As I pulled up to the pump I noticed a young man sitting on the stoop by the door holding a sign made from a ripped cardboard box.

“Homeless…anything helps,” written boldly on the sign.

I noticed my gaze immediately went down. The same way it does when the girl scouts are staked out by the grocery store entrance. I don’t want the cookies and I don’t want to be guilted by the cookies, but now I feel guilted by their cute little faces. “Look away, Lynn, look away.”

His face was not cute. It was lost.

Don’t look away, Lynn. I heard my inner voice say. 

What?? I thought we were supposed to look away. This is uncomfortable. I can’t fix his pain. I can’t make it stop. I can’t face him knowing I have a warm place to go and food to eat that I get to cook. 

Don’t look away. The voice more pronounced. 

Fine. I looked directly at him and his eyes met mine.

I looked down and saw $6 in my console that had been there for weeks. I rarely ever have cash. “Anything helps.”

I opened the car door and walked directly over to him, cash in hand. I acknowledged it was very little and I hoped he found what he needed soon.

He immediately got up and looked me in the eyes. His eyes were clear and bright. His voice confident and filled with gratitude. 

“Thank you. I’m just waiting on my birth certificate from Texas and am working with a social worker at the soup kitchen to get a job.”

I felt his inner warmth, his spark, his optimism.

I met it with my own. 

“There are many services to get you back on your feet. I’ve used some of them myself and I know it takes awhile, but it does help. I’ve been there.”

He gently smiled acknowledging that winter was hard but he was hopeful things would change soon.

I wished him well and returned to fueling my car and was on my way.

Once out of sight, the tears came fast. I couldn’t stop them or slow them down.

I cried for his plight, his pain, his challenges, and the loneliness I’m sure he feels. I cried for those who feel the same, including myself, and the moments I’ve had (and still have) where overwhelm takes over and questioning everything feels consuming.

I cried for the human condition and how many people live with hopelessness that this is all their is. 

And then, when I was done crying, I asked myself what I wanted to DO about it. How could I best serve? How could I help the young man? How can I touch the loneliness and helplessness we all feel at times? How can I use my skills and resources with the limited capacity I have to do my part- whatever that is?

Keep sharing Hope, Lynn. Keep sharing the stories of Hope. Everyone needs the reminders, including you.

I took the answer as the sign I needed to keep moving forward. To keep plugging along. To keep listening to that inner fire that says- we all make a difference. 

And that is what I will do.

I later met my friend at a cafe and designed small cards I can hand out to strangers and people I meet to remind them there is Hope. There is Support. There is Love to be felt by all. I will keep asking and sharing Stories of Serendipity to reignite and remind our Faith to keep burning. 

What is your nudge? What is the little voice that speaks in terms of passion and aliveness? What lights you up? 

Go there. Keep blowing on the embers. “Anything helps.”

Who knows what your spark is meant to create? 

If you have a Story of Serendipity to share, please do! We ALL need the reminders. 

Submit Your Story:

http://www.livingwithserendipity.com/submit-story-of-serendipity

Get your weekly dose of Hope:

https://lynnreilly.substack.com/

The Challenge of Trusting the Process

I am in this weird, uncomfortable stage of life right now called transition, where everything is changing and I’m not actually sure where I’m going or how I’m going to get there, but I KNOW I am going in the right direction…to somewhere. 

A few weeks ago I was heading down the rabbit hole of frustration and not knowing where to put my energy and I wrote down- “Live one day at a time for now. Practice not knowing and trusting the process.”

Sounds kind of romantic unless you are one who actually likes to grip on to what you know. 

I teach the value of trust and even techniques how to trust, but what I know for sure is, trust is not easy when you have been trained to not trust. It takes daily practice when your default is to control the world around you. Or at least think you are controlling the world around you. 

I woke up last week and had the urge to go check out a new library. The library has been my destination of choice as of late to get out of the house and write or do work…or just sit in the energy of all those words and dreams that came to life on paper. 

I had a strong pull to go to this one library and feel it out. I wasn’t sure why and when I questioned if that was REALLY where I wanted to go, the answer was yes. 

Okay, I’m in. Although I will readily question my intuition, I also know it rarely steers me wrong when I follow through to the end of whatever adventure it takes me on.

This time was no different. 

My drive to the town library 30 minutes from my house was not what I expected. Beautiful, yes. It usually is. But quiet? No.

As I drove by a few familiar houses and vista points my emotions began to bubble up and my mind began to race. The ache I thought I had moved through began to resurface.

Ugh. What do you want now??

“You’re not done feeling this one yet.”

The tears began to silently drop one by one. “What happened? How did I get here?”

The confusion began to flood my thoughts as well. The multitude of question marks and lack of periods.

Can’t I just accept it for what it is? A part of the journey. An experience I was meant to have. Maybe I don’t need to know why. Maybe I just need to appreciate what is. 

The sadness filled my chest. 

“I just wish I knew…” I heard her say.

She speaks often- the part of me that wants to understand life and it’s meaning. The part that likes to make sense of it all. But I can’t yet. I’m still in the middle and I can’t see what is meant to be next. I’m simply supposed to TRUST it’s all happening for me. 

My conversation with my client earlier in the morning popped up in my mind.

While she spun in circles with the fear of not getting the home she wanted, I recounted the story of buying my current home. I thought I was buying a different house, one I thought was perfect for me. 

Everything lined up as though it was meant to be mine. I did the daily drive by stalk. I felt myself living there. I envisioned it as though it was mine. And then, when I least expected it, it dropped out. It was no longer an option. 

Within a week, my current home popped up on the market and took the offer I never dreamed would work. It took another year of more question marks than periods for the house to officially be mine and mine alone, but the windy road brought me to a place that at once seemed impossible.

One door closed for another to open. 

I know how it works….but it doesn’t turn off the grief.

Even knowing its “happening for a reason” doesn’t eliminate the discomfort or frustration or old feelings that wanted to remind me they still needed to be felt. 

Including the aftershocks after the quake…

I arrived at the library and it was not what I thought. It seemed as though it was a temporary location while whatever new library was being worked on. The library I was drawn to visit was also in transition. 

When I went inside it was busy and uninviting and it didn’t really have the vibe that anyone wanted to be there. I took a quick tour of a few different rooms and quickly determined, I too, did not want to be there. I walked out.

“Why am I here? What brought me here?” 

I got in my car and decided I would try another library closer to home I hadn’t been to but always wanted to go. Accepting the reroute, I turned the music up in my car as I headed towards my next destination.

And then it came…the answer. I was brought this way to feel my feelings. To go back over the ground of the familiar to bring up what felt unexpressed. I didn’t WANT to feel the sad but the sad still needed some space to breathe and the stomping grounds I drove through brought out the memories I needed to feel it through.

Fiiiine. 

The current journey was my destination. The unexpressed feelings were the experience I was avoiding. I drove there not to experience the new but to feel the old, so I could open myself up to the new. 

As I walked into the next library, tiny and full of good vibes, I was directed to the children’s room. My eyes welled up when I walked down the stairs and saw the long table covered with books inviting me in. 

Welcome to the day’s serendipity. 

Surrounded by joy and colorful captures of life in the most whimsical forms. I had almost forgotten, I too, had created one of these live treasures. My own published children’s book brought to life by the visions inside me coming out to be seen. I was surrounded by dreams that looked like mine reminding me to stay the course and see how it plays out. 

It is indeed scary to not know where you will go and be at end of the day. Yet the journey is also one full of possibility, hope, dreams and unknowns which could turn in to the dreams you didn’t know you had. 

So much passion waiting to come alive and birth into the fullness of life. 

Maybe I don’t know where I need to be. Maybe there is no need at all. Maybe each day has its own set of serendipity waiting to be experienced when you open the door to live it. 

I don’t know what I’m doing next, but maybe that’s the point. Maybe I never really did.

Where I am is exactly where I’m supposed to be. And maybe trusting the process is learning to be okay with that. 

Dealing with Uncertainty: 5 Tips to Tell The Difference Between Fear and Intuition

I sat in meditation waiting for an answer for over an hour. Okay, that’s not true. It was more like five minutes but it felt like wayyy over an hour. 

I didn’t know what to do. I felt lost and uncomfortable and I wanted that feeling to go away. I didn’t know what was going to happen next and I wanted the answers now so I could plan accordingly. I waited for the quiet voice of intuition to present itself.

Instead, the “what if’s” began.

“What if I get hurt? What if I’m wrong? What if I don’t know what I’m doing? What if something happens and I don’t have what I need?”

I don’t even know what “something” could be but my guess is it’s probably really big and devastating if it’s always invading my thoughts. 

I have been in the business of change for quite awhile now as a mental health counselor and energy therapist. Teaching how to trust is my jam. I’m good at it. I have lots of practices that help the head connect with the heart to make conscious, trust based decisions and I still have to use them alll the time.

It doesn’t come natural to me. Fear is always the loudest voice in the room.

I don’t fault myself for that. I know I’m trained for it. One news article later or a few minutes of scrolling through social media or turning on the television and I’m blasted with some sort of fear that I didn’t have beforehand.  Usually one I didn’t even know I had at all.

It is no wonder we are terrified of uncertainty. It’s marketed as a negative. Like the perpetrator ready to attack us at any moment, we are trained to avoid uncertainty. Keep yourself safe by filling in all the possible blanks to make sure you are fully prepared to combat it. The last thing you want is to face the unknown. Why? Because you can’t control it.

*shiver*

We must control what we don’t know to keep us safe, right? And yet, we can’t. 

If you know anything about psychology or even indulge in pop psychology, you may have heard our brains are wired for a negative bias. From what I’ve studied and personally experienced, that’s true.

By nature, our brains take in sensory information from the environment and scan for danger before we deem our surroundings safe and cozy. This is the oldest part of the brain that is useful when foraging for food and being aware of predators around us. We’re not dropping this part of our brain’s design with good reason. It gives us the sense to look both ways before crossing the street instead of ignoring the fast moving vehicles around us. 

Once our sense has decided the environment is safe enough, we process information from the past to tell us how to cross the street and how to do it well. But sometimes that information gets infiltrated with “knowledge” that wasn’t even ours to begin with or something we didn’t even encounter. This is where other people’s experiences, “truths” and fears come into play. We use this information from outside sources to determine what is true and right for us without ever having experienced it. 

All because “they” said so, and their fears match our own. Or at least the ones we’ve been taught.

This includes our parents and caregivers and the beliefs they inherited from their families and experiences. It’s also our peers, our teachers, our leadership, “experts”, and pretty much anyone we are taking in information from. They become the different voices in our head we use as information when making decisions. 

Often the person we want the most approval from becomes the loudest voice in our head. Those who we believe know more than us or those we want to please. The challenge is deciphering what is their belief and what is our own.  

So how can you tell what is your voice when making a decision and what is not? How do you discern between intuition and fear? I’ll share with you a few tricks that help me tell the difference. 

1- Sit with it. Let the fear speak. It’s a simply a voice that wants to be heard. Let it tell you it’s story and all the reasons it exists. Pretending it’s not real doesn’t quiet it. If it feels ignored it will only get louder to demand your attention. Remember fear is the loudest voice in the room. Just like a tantruming child, it eventually calms and dissipates once it’s been acknowledged and had it’s say.

2-After letting the fear speak, ask if it’s true. Fear tends to play out the worst case scenario in order to emphasis its power, but rarely does it offer factual advice. What evidence does it have to prove it’s valid? Where in your history have you died, been desolate, isolated or completely alone forever? When has it not worked out and ruined you for eternity?

If you felt pain, did it decrease? If you lost resources, did you regain them? If you were embarrassed, did you recover? If you were hungry, did you eat again? If you felt alone, did you stay alone? Use your past as proof to show you your previous difficulties were temporary and didn’t ruin you the way you feared. 

3-Take the fear out. If you could take the next step and there was nothing to fear, nothing could possibly go wrong, what would you do?

This question bypasses the fear temporarily to access the heart (intuition) to make a decision that on a deeper level you already know the answer to. This allows the quieter voices of our knowing to be heard and offer clarity while the louder voices step aside. 

Once heard, they will be challenged again by fear. This is normal. Write down the “what if’s” fear presents then write down the opposite “what if.” For example, “what if I end up alone?” versus “what if I have stronger and more authentic connections than I’ve ever had before?”

Or “what if I become broke and have nothing?” versus “what if I have everything I need when I need it most?”

Fear feels heavy and daunting, while truth feels light and free. You don’t have to believe it at first, but the more you practice, the more it will assimilate to become your truth. 

4-Listen to your body. When making a decision, put your hand over your heart and ask the question at large. Then feel how your body responds to the yes or the no. Do your muscles tighten up? Do you cringe when you say one answer? Do you feel light and free with another? Your body has direct access to your intuition when you slow down to listen to it. It holds the answers to all your questions when you give it the chance to speak. 

5- When you listen to someone give their opinion about something, ask yourself how you feel about it. Does it feel true for you? Does it make nervous? Does it put you at ease? Does your body move toward the person or away from them? How do their words feel in your body? Use practices 1-4 to help tune in to what is yours and what is theirs so you can discern the difference. 

Is it really uncertainty we fear, or are we really scared of making the wrong choice and not being in control of the outcome? Are we afraid we can’t trust ourselves and must rely on others to tell us what we need and how to live our lives? 

Every night we go to sleep, we practice trust in the unknown that we will wake the next day and have another opportunity to play. We live with uncertainty and practice faith without even knowing it. It’s not uncertainty we can’t live with, it’s lack of trust we struggle with. 

Fear is not always the enemy, but it sure does ruin the party sometimes when it’s the loud, obnoxious voice telling you what to do and calling you names when you ignore it.

You do know the answer. It’s okay to not trust it sometimes and think twice. We are trained for this. Yet the more you practice connecting with the quieter voice of you, the more you’ll see you had the power all along. The certainty is you. 

Originally published on Mind Life Spirit.

Feeling Fear of Uncertainty?

In times of stress and heightened anxiety it’s hard to grasp the belief that life is happening for us. When we want to close off and hide, we don’t see the safety outside of the walls we’ve built. It’s a defense we created long ago at the first experience of perceived danger. We focus on keeping threat out and keeping ourselves safe from the unknown. 

It’s a learned and fair response. We work to make the unknown a known to protect ourselves.

Here’s the good news: the unknown is already known. You have a lifetime of experiencing fear. You know how to do this. Use your past as proof that in times of great distress, you have created many stories as to what could happen and rarely, if ever, do they come true.

And if they have, you have survived and gained something from them. Sometimes that gain is strength and resilience or new supports, and sometimes it’s deeper joy than you knew possible. But each time, your experiences shifted and stress lifted returning you back to the feeling of safety. We ebb and flow. This is expected. 

This is also the design of life. Experiences that challenge our biggest fears to return us to a place of peace. Our emotions are temporary. Our experiences are temporary. We are ever shifting and evolving as each opportunity asks us to love deeper and harder and with more faith than the time before. 

When fear sidles up next to you ask it what is it’s root. Is it fear of loss of control? Uncertainty? Is it fear of rejection? Is it loss? Fear of being alone? Is it not having basic needs met? Call it by name. 

Then ask for an example when this fear came to fruition in your past, if ever. What was your experience? How did you get through it? What helped as you navigated it? What did you learn from it? How are you still learning from it? What can help you now as the energy  moves through your system? 

Identify ways you can support yourself or ask for support in the process. 

When we are feeling fear we like to feel in control of something. Use this practice to control how you support yourself and others in times of distress.

It shifts our energy and brings us back to our core nature of peace. And who couldn’t use a little more of that? 

Living Serendipitously, in the flow of life, is the practice of feeling allll of your feelings. They all have a seat at the table. Yet at the core, at the head, is Love. After all feelings voice their views, Love, our True and Higher Self has the final say. Love is the only Energy that stays consistent and unshakable.

I recognize in times of heightened fear, we want more evidence than words. I will be writing more about creating this evidence later.

For today, practice listening to any fear that pops up and letting it speak. Use your past of proof you are going to be okay and you know what you are doing. Although our current experience is unprecedented, our experience with navigating fear is not. You’ve got this.